It's nap time and I am exhausted. My eldest is home so the idea that my son will take a nap while his favorite person in the whole wide world is downstairs watching netflix is about as fantastical as my farting rainbows. Needless to say, I am fighting with my son to just lay down in his bed. I try everything. I sit with him, I sing to him, I stay as still as a statue, I bribe him. Anything!
Finally, I give up. I throw my hands in the air and I tell him, "I don't care what you do as long as you let me sleep for an hour!" So leaving my two precious baby angels to their own devices I collapse into my bed and fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow. What feels like moments later, I hear a faint "Mommy?"
I'm pulled out of my stupor just long enough to grunt. "Mommy? Poop." comes the reply.
"Go poop." I manage to slip out without even stirring. For whatever reason my kids still need to ask my permission before they take a dump mommy dearest style. I don't understand where I went wrong.
"No poop." He insists.
When I don't answer he precedes to get louder. So I roll over to acknowledge him with my eyes closed.
"Yes, poop, honey. I hear you. Go poop."
"No, poop" as my son smears a cold goo across my arm.
...
Nothing jolts you awake like cold poo. Instead of jumping out of bed and immediately showering off. I actually sit there and ponder if I am actually awake enough to keep me from falling back to sleep and if I would stay still enough to not roll around and get poop on my bedsheets. Yeah... I should be gagging.
Finally as the smell starts to hit my nose I realize that I am actually awake now and I should probably tend to my monkey children. My son had managed to poop in his underwear but didn't want to take them off to see if it was actually poop or not, so he just stuck his hands down his pants to feel for it. Great. What else did he touch between this self exploration and my sleeping arm? Nothing like trekking through your house like a bloodhound smelling for poop.
So now my youngest is screaming to get up from her nap and I'm realizing that the idea of getting myself a nap is a distant memory. So I pull my youngest out of her crib, I've got my son whining at my feet and now my oldest is upstairs just wanting to be close to me. I jump in the shower to get the rest of the poop off of me because I can't seem to get the stench out of my nostrils.
As I'm in the shower my son is screaming on the other side of the glass doors. My oldest is sitting on the potty drawing and my youngest is adding her voice to the din of noise. I take my jail shower, jump out, dry myself off and look at my youngest. She is soaking wet.
"Why is she wet?" I ask my oldest.
"uh..." comes her reply.
I quickly notice that my sons potty is tipped over and missing the bowl. OH MY-LANTA. The best thing about potty training is that your wonderful, smart and talented child can now go to the bathroom without your help. The worst thing about potty training is this same child can now go to the bathroom without your help. So now, you don't know if that mini potty is empty or not and usually you don't really think about it until you make the connection between your missing bowl, your youngest covered in some mysterious liquid and your freshly cleaned carpet.
Sure enough, while I was in the shower my youngest took it upon herself to pour the urine filled potty all over herself, my carpet, and my only pair of clean pants that were lying on my bedroom floor.
Vomit. In my mouth. There it is! The gagging reflex that has now become a staple of my everyday living.
Everyone back in the bath.
Antenella
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